


Five times Aziraphale doubted and one time he didn't

by swrites



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Happy Ending, M/M, Prose Poem, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:59:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swrites/pseuds/swrites
Summary: Aziraphale was perhaps a curious angel, but not prone to doubts. That is, not until he meets Crawley, a breathtaking demon and his new best friend. After that... Doubts abound.





	Five times Aziraphale doubted and one time he didn't

i.

The first time Aziraphale doubted the Great Plan wasn't when he gave his flaming sword to the freshly cast out humans, oh no. Aziraphale was a good soldier, he did his duty, but also listened to his heart.

No, the first time Aziraphale doubted was the first time he saw Crawley come. They call him evil and wicked and vile, but there's nothing evil about the graceful arch of Crawley's back, there's nothing vile about his softly parted mouth gasping the angel's name. There's nothing wicked about the way his slitted eyes are shining with love and trust, trust in _him._ Crawley entrusts his damned fate to one of god’s chosen warriors, and he does it without hesitation. The demon’s fingers are clenching in Aziraphale’s suit jacket, wrinkling it with desperation as Crawley pleads for him. He’s open and earnest and abandons all pretense. There’s no acting between them when they’re like this. The one time Crawley truly allows himself to be honest with his angel is with Aziraphale spreading him open, reminding him of the righteous burn his divine fingers carry. It takes Aziraphale's breath away, seeing Crawley like this. It makes his heart skip in the same way it skips when he beholds the glory of a sunset, or the miracle of a freshly bloomed tree, its petals spreading to soak in the god-given sunlight,

How could something so beautiful, so full of love, be made by anything other than the hand of the Almighty herself?

Crawley came, and Aziraphale doubted.

 

ii.

The second time Aziraphale doubted, again wasn’t how one would expect a pious angel to come to doubt.

To set the scene, he’s sitting on a bench next to Crowley - Crawley is too slithery for him now, he says - and Crowley is talking to him, pointing out different couples as they pass by, tossing snacks into his mouth as he speculates on what dastardly temptations the humans would give into by day’s end. Aziraphale doesn’t even take offense any more, now that he knows that Crowley just does it to get a rise out of him. It’s a game they play, batting the ball over the net like badminton- the fun is in the back and forth. So Aziraphale puffs up like an angry bird, sounding aghast that Crowley would suggest such debauchery, but there’s no heart in it. Crowley turns to meet the angel’s eyes and laughs, and an absolutely stunning smile spreads across his face, sharp white teeth shining in the light, crinkling the demon’s slitted eyes at the corners (crow’s feet, crowley). It’s warm, gentle, and full of love and it makes Aziraphale’s heart lodge in his throat. He can’t help the soft warmth that ebbs onto his face, and his own smile melts into place in response. The two of them just look at each other, smiling softly from ear to ear for far too long, until the smiles fade and a much more serious expression takes over them both.“

Crowley, I-”

  
Crowley’s eyes dip down to Aziraphale’s slightly parted mouth, and the angel swipes his tongue over his lips in a subconscious response. He barely has time to say “wait, Crowley, wait-” before he has a lapful of demon, kissing him like his life depends on it. The demon’s tongue licks behind Aziraphale’s teeth as though he were trying to find the answers to the question he couldn’t dare ask. The angel’s answer was always yes, always always always, but he couldn’t say what Crowley wasn’t ready to hear, so he just let Crowley kiss him.  
  
Crowley ground their hips together and Aziraphale gasped, and he didn’t mean to say it, honest to God he didn’t but it just slipped out- _I love you I love you I love you_ _  
_ __  
“I

Love   
  
You”   
  
And Crowley flinches back, recoiled like he’d been struck with holy water. He slides off the angel’s lap like every place theyre  touching is burning, and the demon swallows down what Aziraphale thought may have been a sob.   
  
“Don’t- just don’t, don’t _do_ that, why would you say that? You know what I am, this can never be, don't be cruel,k someone like you could never love someone like me,” Crowley snapped out, his agitation sending a spiderweb crack up his glasses. The lenses shattered and fell from the frame, and Crowley snatched the frames off, tossing them aside as he averted the angel’s gaze; too late. Aziraphale saw the tears welling up, threatening to spill over.   
  
“Crowley, I-”   
  
“Just _stop,”_ Crowley hissed out, and stormed off, leaving smouldering footprints in his wake.   
  
How is this just? How is this right? How is it in the Great Plan to allow such a good and kind soul to wallow in self hatred, thinking himself undeserving of an angel’s love?   
  
Crowley cried, and Aziraphale doubted.

 

iii.

The third time Aziraphale doubted was many many years after the last instance. He sees a demon, _his_ demon, walking onto holy ground. _His_ demon, walking onto holy ground, in burning pain, to save _him._ To save _him,_ an _angel._ To save _his_ angel. Aziraphale is having trouble just wrapping his head around it. A _demon_ just risked himself for an _angel._ The church blows up, and Crowley hands him the books that he’d forgotten to protect, and God in _Heaven_ does he love that demon. He gently sets the books down on the char-blackened table before grabbing Crowley by the labels and dragging him down into a deep kiss. Crowley melts into him, as he always does, without hesitation, letting Aziraphale map his mouth with his tongue, taking in every inch of him, trying to convey what Crowley never lets him say. 

_I love you I love you I love you_

It's a song that Crowley may never let him sing, but that won't, _can't_ stop the song in his heart. Every beat in his divine chest is for Crowley, whether the demon will believe him or not.  He's not sure if Crowley just thinks he's letting himself believe, taking a fool's chance just to kid yourself and pretend the one you love feels the same, or if Crowley is just content to love him in whatever way the angel will let him, knowing he would never be worthy enough to have his feelings return. Either option makes Aziraphale's heart break.

With this knowledge in mind, Crowley's church rescue, his demonic miracles, prove to be something even more astonishing- they're selfless.

Crowley doesn't march onto consecrated ground hoping to gain anything; not Aziraphale's love, not his affections, nor a favor in return. He does it with absolutely no hope of reward. He does it because he can't bear to let Aziraphale get hurt, even if he knows that it's only a bit more paperwork.

A demon commits a selfless act, for the one he loves. A _demon,_ who is incapable of doing anything for any greater good that isn't their own, a creature of ill repute and iniquity, only capable of actions based on greed and desire and avarice, does something selfless.

Crowley saves him, and Aziraphale doubts.

iv.

The fourtht Aziraphale doubts, it's when Crowley walks away from him. Deservedly so.

He's been panicking, overturning each infraction in his head until it's all he can see. The doubts collide and snowball until he can't breathe around the panic. Doubting the Ineffable Plan, this is what demons are made of. Literally. This is how God's most beautiful son was cursed to lose his visage of perfection, his divinity- just for asking questions. This is how Crawley came to be- asked too many questions and his name and rank were stripped from him, the mark of the beast he was to become etched into his flesh, forced to crawl on his belly beneath the divine.

And perhaps that was the problem, wasn't it? Some fundamental flaw in Aziraphale that he a) had all these reservations about becoming like Crawley, and b) that he was coming this close to being like Crawley in the first place. He was a good angel, he did his duty. Didn't he?

But duty at what cost? That's all Aziraphale can think as he watches Crowley try to justify them staying together. And then, desperate enough, he says it, let's himself be vulnerable for one shining moment-

"Zira, please. I love you."

And the angel chokes back a sob, tries to hide it.

"Don't be silly," he says, his tone belying the screaming in his eyes as he says the very words he knows Crowley has been waiting to hear for six thousand years. "Love? We're enemies. There is no "our side." Not anymore. It's over."

Crowley doesn't recoil like Aziraphale is expecting. He's never shied away from pain. The demon sags into it, wilting a bit before finding a way to fan the flames of his bitterness. He snaps at Aziraphale and strides away, every step of those long, long legs breaks the angel's heart.

Crowley left, and Aziraphale doubted.

v. The fifth time Aziraphale doubted was exactly how one might expect a pious angel to doubt- but it wasn't the doubt one might expect a pious angel to have.

Megatron spoke, the supposed word of God:

_The point is not to avoid the war. The point is to win it._

One might think the angel's first thought would be more along the lines of "so if both sides are fighting for the same thing, how are we better than those we cast out?"

And you know? Maybe on some level, he did think about that. But no, no no, that wasn't the thought that crossed his mind just then. The thought that he latched onto was the only one that matters: _I let Crowley leave for this._

The call to upstairs ends, and Aziraphale is just about to call his demon, to apologise, to set things right, when the door to his shop opens. Seargant Shadwell. Discorporation. Oh, fuck.

Crowley is right, and Aziraphale doubts.

i. For the first time since he met Crowley, Aziraphale has no doubts. Crowley drives his beloved car through a raging inferno for him. Another selfless act, since the angel hadn't yet taken back those awful things he said. But even so, Aziraphale calls, and Crowley comes. Just as he always does.

And they save the world together. They give in to the Ineffable Plan, and they thwart the Great Plan. And after the deed had been done and they had saved each other again, they went to the Ritz, and Aziraphale let Crowley sit in his lap in public (a rare occasion to be certain). And Crowley let his angel feed him exotic foods (an even rarer occasion). And they kissed, and let themselves love one another, and it was all part of the Ineffable Plan.

Crowley laughed and kissed him, and Aziraphale never doubted again.


End file.
